


Guardian Angel

by KennaM



Series: Fandom Kittens [7]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Birds, Dogs, Drabble, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Hamsters, Horses, Kittens, Puppies, Turtles, injured animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-04 08:38:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4131288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KennaM/pseuds/KennaM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt hears something he can't ignore on his way into the office one morning.</p><p>It keeps happening</p><p>(Set post-episode 2, pre-episode 10.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hedgi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hedgi/gifts).



Matt walked into the office that morning with a box balanced on one arm. It was a plain banker's box, with a crossed out label reading "dishes," and if Karen's ears heard right, it was filled with something living, moving. Meowing.

She slowly stood up from her chair. "What is that?" she asked. Matt crossed the room, cane at his side, and set the box down on her desk.

"I found them this morning, next to a dumpster in the alley by my apartment," he said. Karen stared down at the kittens as they wriggled over the old towels and rags lining the box. "Abandoned," Matt added.

Foggy hadn't heard them, but he looked up when Matt set the box on Karen's desk, and moved to the doorway of his office to see what was going on. "What's in the box?" he asked, repeating Karen's question. Matt turned towards his voice.

"Uh," Karen started to answer, but a sharp meow interrupted her. Alarmed, Foggy stepped out into the front room.

"Are those cats?" he asked. He walked closer. "Did you bring cats into our office?"

"They're just babies," Matt said. "I... I didn't know what else to do. I heard them crying-"

"You brought _stray_ cats into our office? We're barely taking care of ourselves here, how are we supposed to take care of-oh my god these are the cutest things I've ever seen." Foggy reached into the box and picked up one of the kittens by it underbelly. He held it up to eyesight. "Look," he said to Karen, "this one looks like you."

Karen flashed a quick, uncertain smile. "We can't keep these here," she reminded the pair.

Foggy ignored her, and turned to Matt. "Did you pet these?" he asked. "Feel this. This is the softest fur I've ever felt. I didn't know fur could be this soft."

"I didn't..." Matt started, then decided the switch gears. "Karen's right. I don't know the first thing about taking care of a cat. Much less four."

"Five," Karen corrected.

"But I couldn't leave them where they were. They were gonna starve."

Foggy had set the kitten back down into the box, but proceeded to pick another one up. "I don't know what kind of person could abandon living creatures like this. Especially ones so small. Seriously," he added, "feel how soft this is," and he held the kitten to Matt's chest. Matt took the kitten with one hand, and held it there as it wriggled weakly, trying to find a way free.

"Seriously, guys," Karen tried again. "Cat food can get expensive, especially the formula stuff you're supposed to give kittens who don't have a mother."

Matt handed the kitten in his hand over to Karen, who took it from him and gently placed it back into the box. "How young are these?" he asked.

"Too young," Foggy answered. He sighed, and met Karen's eyes. "You're right," he said. "I'm pretty sure my place wouldn't allow cats anyways. They're so cute though."

"Yeah," Karen agreed softly as he set the kitten in his hands back down into the box. "So they should get adopted out easily, when we take them to the shelter."

No one said anything for a moment, and the silence in the office was cut by the kittens' mewlings. Finally, Matt said, "I have no idea where the animal shelter is."

"I'll go," Karen said. She started to wrap her hands around the box handles, but Foggy beat her to it.

"I'll go with you," he said. "I'm not going to make you find this place on your own."

"Well, I've been there before," she said with another smile. Matt and Foggy both raised eyebrows. "I thought about adopting a dog," she explained, "when I first moved here. I decided it was too much work, but not until after going to look at some. It's a decent place." She shrugged.

While Karen reached for her purse, Foggy turned to Matt. "You coming too?" he asked. "We're almost guaranteed to get no walk-ins today, so."

Matt smiled. "Yeah," he said. "The walking would do me good."

***

Matt waited that night on the fire escape of his building, above the alleyway where he'd found the kittens. He listened as a man passed beneath him, hefting a heavy trashbag to the dumpster, and paused. The man sounded like he was searching around, and after a moment seemed to give up, turning back the way he came. He almost jumped out of his skin when Matt landed several feet in front of him.

"I'm looking for someone," Matt said, ignoring the man's surprised rambling.

"What?"

"Someone who left something out here they shouldn't have."

He could hear the man's heartbeat increasing. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," the man said.

"Animal abandonment is illegal," Matt continued, "and highly immoral. You left them to die."

"Look," the man started to say, but Matt cut him off with a clang as his fist hit the side of the dumpster. The man squawked, and tried to run, but Matt grabbed him by the front of his shirt. "Please!" he cried. "I'm sorry! I'll do anything! Just don't-!"

Matt let him ramble in fear for a moment before roughly pulling him closer. "Pay the vet fees," he said hoarsely. "Go to the shelter, donate the money, and then _never_ abandon an animal again."

The man nodded wildly, then stumbled to the floor when Matt let him go. Matt stood there as he scrambled up, turned, and fled. The next day, he followed the man as he left the apartment building, heading towards the animal shelter.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to make this not crack and then... it was just crack.
> 
> I'm pretty sure New York has abandonment laws, right? If not, they should.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got coerced into writing more.

It was a week later when Foggy entered their offices in the morning to find Matt standing there, in front of Karen’s desk, looking forlorn. He turned to the opening door, and Foggy saw the way his held is left arm up, saw what sat on his palm. Matt opened his mouth but Foggy cut him off, asking, “is that a turtle?”

Matt was silent for a moment. Then, “yes. I found it,” he added pitifully.

“Matt,” was all Foggy said.

Karen walked in on Foggy taking the turtle from Matt’s hand, his own protected by way too many paper napkins. “Is that-?” she started to ask, but Foggy just nodded.

“Can you start the water in the sink?” he asked. “And, find something to block the drain with?”

Matt wasn’t allowed to wash his hand until the turtle had been cleaned off, and was swimming around in the dirtied water. “Look,” Foggy pointed for Karen, “it’s a Red-eared Slider. See the red marks on its ears?” He turned sharply to Matt. “Why do you have a Red-eared Slider?”

“I-”

“You found it, I know. In a gutter somewhere?”

“Yes,” Matt said. “By the bus stop, on tenth.”

“And you just picked it up? That’s dangerous, Matt. How did you even know it was there?”

“Uh,” Matt said. He didn’t finish. Karen and Foggy glanced at each other.

Karen decided to save him from answering. “I think the question now is what do we do with it? I don’t think the shelter’s equipped to take reptiles.”

“Well, obvious we have a new office pet,” Foggy said, with an air of resignation. “Matt picked it up so you’re in charge of feeding it.”

“I’m not – we’re not keeping the turtle,” Matt said.

“Why not? You brought it here. Why bring it to the office if you don’t intend to keep it?”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” Matt said.

“That’s what you said about the kittens last week,” Karen pointed out, then smiled. “You should think these things through, before Foggy gets too attached.”

“I’m not too attached.” Foggy didn’t even bother to look up, too busy watching the turtle swimming laps in the sink. “I’m just doing the responsible, adult thing.”

“We could try finding the real owner,” Karen pointed out. “Turtles don’t just wander around on their own in city gutters…. Do they?”

“Not usually,” Matt agreed, “but there are no apartment on that street. It was probably a kid on the bus, who dropped his new pet while getting off.”

The three of them said nothing for a moment, watching the green animal. Finally, Foggy spoke up. “I have an idea,” he said.

***

Sargent Brett Mahoney nearly ran into the waiting lawyer outside the precinct that afternoon. He started to curse at him, but Foggy held up a small cardboard box.

“Peace offering?” he said.

Brett rolled his eyes, and also subtly checked for any officers watching nearby. “More cigars?”

“Nope,” Foggy said. “Even better.”

There was a scuffling inside the box, and now Brett was suspicious. He took it, bent back the lid, and peered inside. “A turtle? What am I supposed to do with this?”

“They like water,” Foggy answered. “And heat lamps.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's only going to be 8 chapters of this and no one can convince me to write any more than that

Foggy almost wasn't surprised when Matt walked into their offices that afternoon with a shoebox containing something alive and scuttling. He'd left around noon for his lunch break and came back two hours later with -

"Is that a hamster?" Foggy asked. He was out of his chair and at his friend's side the moment it was obvious Matt wasn't carrying takeout.

"I think so?" Matt's voice was uncertain. "I've never actually felt one before, but it matches the descriptions."

"Did you pet it? You pet a stray rodent you found, where was it this time, wandering the sidewalk? What if it has rabies?"

Matt didn't disagree, instead saying, "it seemed like it was hurt." By the sound of it, Foggy was reaching to lift the hamster up, and Matt quickly withdrew the box, holding it tighter to his chest. "I wouldn't do that," he said. "It's very antsy. It almost bit me earlier."

"But _you_ got to pet it," Foggy complained. "It's fur looks so soft."

"I didn't - I didn't pet it, Foggy. I picked it up. And it almost bit me."

They were still arguing over the rodent when the door suddenly jerked open, hitting Matt in the back of his shoes. They stepped out of the way to let Karen in. She, Foggy noticed, actually was carrying takeout. As promised.

"What are you - oh, Matt," Karen said when she noticed the box. "A hamster this time? Really? The cats and the turtle weren't enough?"

They ended up in the side conference room, the box on the table between then while Karen and Foggy ate. Matt sat across from them, having been denied food as punishment for bringing a rodent back instead.

"Calling it that makes it sound worse than it is," he argued as the other two ate. "It's a hamster. People keep them as pets."

Foggy swallowed. "It's a rodent. It's a cute, adorable, fuzzy rodent - no one's saying that rodents can't be adorable. Most of them are. But this building already has a rat problem. I don't think the landlord would think kindly of us adding to that problem."

"I'm not saying _we_ should keep it as a pet."

"We can't anyways," Karen said, "not without getting it checked with a vet. I know I can't afford that." The other two quietly agreed. "The problem is where to take it. The animal shelter we took those cats to doesn't accept small animals like hamsters. We'd have to find a local breeder, or... or a snake owner."

"What?" Foggy cried. "We're not taking it somewhere to be eaten! What's the use in saving the poor thing if we just hand it off to be killed? Look at it! Look at how cute it is!" The hamster had begun to chew at the cardboard of the box, so they'd taken leftover napkins to line it with. It was chewing through those instead.

Karen just laughed softly. "That's how life works. Everything eats something else." She pointed down to her beef and broccoli as an example.

"So, what then?" Foggy finally said after a moment of silence. "We ask around for anyone looking to adopt a rodent, or possibly feed one to their pet reptile? I know we don't exactly have a full load right now, but I for one didn't become a lawyer to find homes for stray animals all day."

"We have to do something with it," Matt said. "We can't just abandon it somewhere. That's illegal."

"Well," Foggy said, holding his hands up to excuse himself from the issue. "I took care of the turtle."

"And I took care of the cats," Matt said.

Karen frowned. "No you didn't," she said. "We went together to take those to the shelter."

Matt switched tactics. "I was the one who found the hamster."

"Yeah," she agreed. "And if you hadn't, we wouldn't be in this mess."

***

Karen ended up at Josie's bar alone that evening, exhausted and ready to go to bed. She still carried the shoebox under her arm, closed inside of a slightly larger shoebox, and padded with layers of newspaper, napkins, and ripped up paper bags. Before they'd sent her out of the office on her errand, Foggy had collected as much hamster-safe food as he could find in the office, and stuffed it around the edges of the box for the hamster to find. Last time Karen had checked, the hamster had been hoarding as much of the food as it had uncovered into the nest it had made in the center of the scraps of paper.

She'd half expected to find Foggy there, so she could dump the box back on him, but he was nowhere to be found. He'd called at least three times since she'd left, but she'd only answered once, and he'd only asked how she was doing, how the hamster was doing, and if she'd found someone to take it from her yet.

The shoebox went onto the bar and Karen downed the shot of malt liquor as soon as Josie handed the bottle and empty glass to her. "What's in the box?" the woman asked absently. The bar was as full as usual, but everyone was a regular, and the drinks took no thought to pour.

"A hamster," Karen answered. Josie raised her eyebrows, and Karen just rolled her eyes. "It's a long story."

"This is the first time anyone's ever brought a _hamster_ into my bar," Josie said.

"Oh," Karen quickly said. "Don't worry. It's, it's trapped, it's not getting out unless I let it out. I'm sorry, I... I didn't think-"

Josie cut her off by laughing. "Don't worry," she said, "I'm not afraid of a little tiny furball. Used to have one myself, as a kid."

Karen downed another shot, surprised by the conversational tone. "Oh? That must have been nice. We never had pets in my house."

"Died after a couple years," Josie said. "But it was a pretty great little critter."

***

Foggy's phone rang just before he nodded off to sleep. He thought about ignoring it, but remembered he hadn't heard from Karen in several hours, and decided to check who was calling just in case.

"Karen?" he asked groggily into the phone.

"Did I wake you?" she asked back. "Sorry."

"No, no, it's fine. I was getting a bit worried about you. Are you OK?"

"Mm-hmm," her voice came back over the phone. "I'm great. Finally got rid of that hamster."

"You didn't... what did you do with it?"

"Guess," she said. He could hear the smile in her voice.

"I'm never going to be able to guess. Just tell me."

"I'll give you a clue," she said. She was obviously having fun with this. "I was just informed by a certain bartender that the hamster is a girl, and most probably pregnant with babies."

Foggy paused to let that information sink into his sleep-addled brain. "You're kidding me," was all he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I remember now, the next chapter is the one with the pregnant hamster!" - completely rational things to say while writing crackfic.


	4. Chapter 4

Karen heard the puppy even before Matt had reached their office door. So had Foggy, apparently. He stepped out of his room to ask Karen if he was hearing things right, and she just rested her forehead in her palms, resigned.

"Uh, hey," was all Matt said when he'd opened the office door.

"Matt..." Karen groaned.

The puppy was tucked into the crook of one arm, and its bark was even louder inside the office than it had been outside.

"Really, Matt?" Foggy asked. "Isn't a stray puppy a little too cliche for you? I was almost worried you'd show up with a snake next."

Matt opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again. The puppy wriggled in his arm, and finally managed to get loose, landing on the floor with a thud and bounding over to where Foggy stood. Its fur was matted, and almost completely black except for a tell of tan brown on the part of its head that wasn't covered in mud. It panted up at Foggy, then ran to bark at Karen, then barked again at Foggy.

"Where did this one come from?" Karen asked.

"It was wandering through an alley a couple blocks from here. Obviously hungry, so I fed it the rest of my lunch-"

"-I was going to eat that..."

"-and then it just started following me. I didn't even notice how dirty it was until I picked it up to carry it inside."

Foggy had crouched down to rub the puppy's fur behind its ears. "We'll have to get you washed off, won't we," he said to it. "Can't have you covered in this gunk all day, now can we?"

"We're not washing a dog in our sink," Karen said. She stood up, as if to block Foggy access to their break room. "Turtles, sure - dogs, no. I'm sure the animal shelter will be able to clean him - or her - up in no time."

"Him," Foggy said, "and you don't want to wait that long do you, little fella?" He turned to look up at Karen. "He says no, he doesn't want to wait that long."

They ended up cleaning the puppy off with washclothes, which Foggy promised he'd take home and wash three time. Matt held the struggling animal while Foggy picked through his muddied fur. Karen rinsed the washclothes when they were filthy and handed Foggy the next cleanest one to use. As the mud got removed, more and more of the puppy's patterns could be seen, until the golden brown on his legs and chest stood out from the black on his back and tail.

"Looks like a German Shepherd," Karen said. "I wonder if it got loose from a breeder around here."

"Police dog," Foggy said. "Go figure. Just like us to wind up with a law dog in our hands. I know," he quickly added, when Karen started to protest, "we're not keeping it. We're taking it to the shelter for someone who can afford things like dog food and vet fees. But of all the types of dogs for Matt to drag in..."

"Actually, uh," Matt started to say. He sounded hesitant.

"What?" Karen asked.

Foggy raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're actually thinking of keeping this one. Oh! Are you going to train it?"

Matt quickly shook his head. "No, no. Do you know how much time it takes to train service dogs? No. I just... I think I might know someone who could use... who might want a dog."

The puppy finally wriggled free of Matt's grasp, and circled around Foggy's legs. "Oh?" Foggy asked, then "Oh!" He quickly glanced at Karen. "You mean? Really?"

"Yeah."

Karen gave them both a quizzical look. "What?" she asked. "What am I missing?"

"It's nothing," Matt said quickly.

"And I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to tell," Foggy said. "I don't know. We never really discussed this."

Matt awkwardly made to leave the room. "I'll go call..." he started to say, then, "I'll be right back."

"I'll watch this little guy," Foggy said, and scooped the puppy up before he could follow Matt out into the main office.

"What was that about?" Karen asked.

"I think it's kind of a secret," Foggy said. "I don't even know all the details." He held the puppy under its forepaws out Karen. "Come on, help me think of a name for this little guy."

***

Matt showed up at Claire's apartment at 9 that night, puppy secured in his arms by the collar and leash Foggy had bought earlier that day. He'd given Foggy the money, so technically _he_ bought the collar. It didn't really matter. He wasn't keeping score or anything.

He couldn't tell if Claire was more surprised by him coming through the front door, dressed in civilian clothing, or by the puppy in his arms. It barked at her, and some of the neighbors started to move towards the stairwell, to see what was going on.

"Can I come in before someone sees me?" he asked. She sighed and ushered him in.

"I got your voicemail," she said. "I was at work."

"Should you be at work?" Matt asked. "You're still healing, from when...."

"I'm fine," she said. "And I would know. Besides, after those explosions? I couldn't keep hiding. Anyway, is this the puppy?"

The puppy barked happily. "His name is Marshall," Matt said. "I didn't name him."

"I can't take him, you know that right?"

"Claire-"

"No, I mean seriously. Dogs are a lot of work, Matt, and I'm at the hospital most of the day. I can't train it, walk it, make sure it's getting the care it needs - pay for trips to the vet." The puppy still wriggled in Matt's arms, but it had gone mostly silent, staring around the new room.

"Look," Matt said, "after what happened... I don't know if I feel comfortable with you on your own. German Shepherds make great guard dogs-"

"-If you take the time to train them," Claire cut him off. "I appreciate the sentiment, but... the Russians are dead. No one else is coming after me. I'll be fine."

Matt nodded. Nothing else he could possibly say would convince her to take the dog, and he knew it. "OK," he said, "then get Santino."

"What?"

"I-I don't think he'd be comfortable with me going up to his apartment. He'd be more likely to speak to me down here."

"Why do you want - oh no," Claire said, realizing. "No. Santino's just a kid. He doesn't need the responsibility of a newborn puppy."

"Kids love dogs," Matt countered, "and the dog's at least a year old. Besides," Matt's voice went soft, "the Russians didn't just hurt you."

Santino was shaking slightly when Claire brought him down. He hesitated at the doorway, seeing Matt waiting inside, but the puppy had gotten free of his grasp by then, and ran to investigate the newcomer. "Un regalo," Matt said. The puppy surprised Santino, but he knelt down almost instinctively to touch it

"¿Para mí?" he asked, looking up at Matt. Matt nodded. Santino scratched the puppy behind his ears, and in moments he had rolled over onto his back, tongue lolling. Santino's trembling had stilled. "¿Por qué?"

"Para protegerte," Matt answered. _To protect you._

Santino said nothing for a moment, just watched the dog. He looked up again. "¿Cómo se llama?" _What is its name?_

"Lo que quieras." _Whatever you want._


	5. Chapter 5

Karen had to open the door for Matt that morning, when he called through the window for help. He didn't make excuses for the bird in his hands. He just asked, "what do I do with this?"

It was a pigeon. Grey, with some green around its neck. Like the hundreds of other pigeons Karen had seen around New York, except that this one had a wing stuck out at an odd angle. "How did you find this guy?" she asked. She was torn between wanting to take it from Matt's hands, and not wanting to risk anything she might get from touching it.

"I heard it, when it fell from the sky at the end of the block. I think it hit one of those old cords they left after they took down last year's campaign banners. No one else was around...."

"No one else was around?" Karen asked skeptically. It wasn't _that_ early in the morning.

"OK," he conceded, "maybe some other people noticed, but no one else wanted to do anything about it."

"And you just had to fly in to the rescue." Karen smiled at him, and Matt huffed a laugh. "So, what, you just walked all the way here with this thing in your hands, no problem?"

"It's... a very familiar street to me. And the bird didn't seem to mind me at all. But, seriously Karen, what do I do now?"

Karen frowned, the lightly took his elbow to lead him into Foggy's empty office. "Come on," she said. A box sat on one of the shelves, handfuls of papers carelessly tossed in, and Karen emptied it out before setting it on the table. "Put it in here," she said. Matt set the bird in and it hopped around a bit. but it quickly settled into a corner, watching the pair closely.

"Now go wash your hands," Karen said.

"Pigeons aren't actually as dirty as people tend to think," Matt said. "They're no worse than a sparrow, or, or-"

"-You pick up any wild animal," Karen cut him off, "you wash your hands afterward." She pointed, even though she knew he couldn't see it, and reluctantly he made for the break room sink.

Foggy entered the front of the office moments later. "I've got good news and bad news," he announced, then stopped. "Karen? Matt?"

"In here," Karen called. She was still watching the pigeon, but she could hear the break room sink turn on from across the hall.

Foggy followed Karen's voice to his inner office. "What are you doing in here?" he asked. "And do you want to hear the bad news first or the - is that a bird?"

Karen turned to see him holding his shoulder bag awkwardly in one hand. He was staring down at the box on his table. She nodded. "Matt's latest friend," she said. "Maybe the good news?"

"Uh." Foggy was still staring at the box, and it took him a moment to remember what he had wanted to say. "Oh. Right." He reached into his bag and pulled out a fistful of hand towels. They hadn't been folded. "I washed these. From the dog. Three times, like you said."

"Oh, perfect." Karen took them from him and gently lay them in the box, around the bird. It fluttered back further as her hands got close to it, but when she stepped back it moved to the nearest towel and settled down into it. Foggy frowned, but said nothing.

"What about the bad news?" Matt asked, entering the room behind Foggy. He was drying his hands with a paper napkin.

"Oh. Internet's down. In the whole building. I just ran into the building manager downstairs actually. Rats chewed through the cables, apparently. Did you really just find a bird with a broken wing on your way to work? Who does that?"

"They've really got to do something about the rats," Karen sighed. "I was going to look up local wildlife services, but...."

"You can head to Columbus LIbrary to borrow a computer," Matt offered, but Foggy just started shaking his head.

"Really, guys?" he asked.

Karen glanced at Matt, confused. "What?"

"You really don't know? The Wild Bird Fund is literally just up Ninth Street from here. It's like a five minute bus ride at worst."

"The... what?" Karen asked, but Matt started nodding his head.

"That's right," he said, "you've talked about this before. I remember. It's a local wildlife rescue place."

"In Hell's Kitchen?"

"It's not actually  _in_ Hell's Kitchen," Foggy said, "but close enough. Just over on 87th. It's better than going all the way out to Long Island."

The bird shifted again in the box, its claws scratching at the cardboard on the bottom. Karen smiled at Foggy. "And you just happen to know all this off the top of your head?"

Foggy shrugged, faking nonchalance. "I donate there, every few months. When I have the money. Which, lately...."

"We should take it over soon," Matt said. "There's not much else we can do for it here."

Foggy shook his head. "We won't be able to until after 1. We could call to make an appointment, but... I don't have their number saved off the top of my head. Or in my phone." He moved, as he spoke, closer to the box on the table. The bird eyed him warily, but Foggy didn't go to pick it up, just stared down at it. "Where did you find this little guy anyway?"

"I think it hit some of that wiring they left up from last year's campaign banners," Matt answered. He could sense Foggy beginning to bristle.

"They still haven't bothered cleaning up after themselves," Foggy said, more to himself than either of the others. "Councilmen get elected and leave their mess out for everyone else to have to deal with...." His voice trailed off, and he clamped his mouth shut.

After a moment, Karen finally asked, "so what do we do with it until 1?"

"Um," Foggy said, and he looked at Matt, who shrugged. "Bird seed?"

"Bird seed," Karen repeated. Then, "let me guess. You're going to make me go get it."

"Actually," Foggy said, "let me come with you. There's... something I want to check out on the way."

"I'll just stay here then," Matt said. He faked a sad tone, but Foggy turned to look at him and they both laughed softly. "Work my way through this mountain of legal paperwork we've got piling up."

"We'll be back soon to help you with that," Foggy jokingly promised, and left.

***

Karen was the last to leave the office that night. Matt had left as soon as he could and Foggy stuck around another couple of hours working on case files, but when Karen finally convinced herself to leave, an hour later, she figured he'd have gone back home already. Instead she caught sight of him just down the street, halfway up a ladder he'd set against the traffic light.

"Foggy?" she called up at him, and he practically jumped, grabbing at the ladder for support. It bounced, and Karen quickly grabbed the bottom of it. "What are you doing?!"

"Shh!" he called down to her. He risked moving a hand to bring a finger to his lips, in a shushing motion. They weren't alone on the street, but the other pedestrians ignored them. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"It looks like you're trying to get yourself killed," she stagewhispered up at him. 

Foggy scoffed. "I'm fine," he said. "I've done this tons of times."

"Climbed up traffic lights?"

"Well, maybe not up traffic lights specifically, but-" He stepped up a rung higher, then held an arm out. Wrapped around his upper arm was a white cord, which connected up to the top of the traffic light. He tugged, and it slipped down a bit, but didn't come loose. "See?" he said, slightly out of breath. He tugged again but nothing happened. "I should have been done before you got here but...."

Karen frowned. "You could have just called someone from the city to do that," she said. Foggy shook his head. A car stopped at the red light and Karen could see the driver watching them, bored. She resisted the urge to wave.

"No," Foggy said. "I've called before, and they've never come to do anything about it. Might as well take care of it myself, right? Besides," he held the cord out again for Karen to see better, and leaned a little too much of his weight back. Karen quickly restabilized the ladder. "Free cord! For... whatever we might want cord for!"

Karen watched a minute more, then said "maybe you need scissors? It doesn't look like it's coming off."

"No, I got it. Don't worry." A moment later, the cord slid down another foot, but it was still far to high for Foggy to reach the knot.

"I can go get scissors," Karen said. "We have some at the office."

Foggy was silent for a minute. "Do that," he finally said. "I'll, uh, be right here." He stepped a rung down, but there was nowhere to leave his collected coil of cord. "Hurry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually live in New York City, or have any real familiarity with... any of this, so please excuse the creative liberties I've taken.


	6. Chapter 6

The dog trotted in the office door behind Matt, wagging its tail happily. Matt set his cane against the wall and went to Foggy's doorway. "Hey, Foggy?" he called in softly, with a knock on the doorframe. Foggy looked up.

"You have a dog," he said. He sounded more surprised than Matt was expecting.

"It's not mine," Matt quickly said. Foggy stood up to meet the dog, whose tail started wagging harder now that someone was finally giving it attention. "It's been... following me around since last night."

"Since last night?" Foggy asked. He rubbed the dog's head, around its ears and down its chin. It was a golden color, probably a lab-mutt, and it made a pleased whining noise at Foggy's attention.

"Yeah, I, uh, heard it... attacking a mugger?"

"Woah," Foggy said. His hands pet down the dog's back, and he finally noticed the scars on its legs, the unnatural curve in its ribcage. "You get in a lot of trouble, don't you buddy?" he said to the dog. Then, to Matt, he added, "he's missing an eye."

Matt said nothing for a moment, just listening as Foggy pet the dog and the dog enjoyed the attention. He finally said, "it tried eating the pizza in my fridge last night. I didn't have any dog food, so...."

Foggy scoffed. "You fed the dog pizza? That can't be good for dogs. I don't actually know. It's owners aren't going to...." His voice trailed off, and he turned to look up at Matt. "Wait, you have pizza in your fridge? I thought you hated junk food."

Matt shrugged.

By the time Karen came in to work, they still hadn't bothered to check the tags on the dog's collar. "I can't read it," Matt said from the floor next to Foggy. The dog had rolled onto its back before Karen showed up, when it jumped up to bark and sniff her. "Maybe if it stood still for me I could figure it out."

Karen had eventually been coerced into joining them on the floor. "What's your excuse?" she asked Foggy, the dog's head in her lap.

"He kept licking my face," Foggy answered. "I can't read nametags when dogs are licking my face."

Karen dictated the name and number on the dog's collar to Foggy, who wrote it down on one of her note pads. None of them bothered to call until they'd played with the dog ("Lucky. Sounds fitting," Karen had said when she'd read the collar) for about another twenty minutes. Finally, Matt decided that they really had to get to work, and Karen fished out her cell phone.

It was a woman's voice that answered. "Hello?" she asked.

"Yes, hi," Karen started. "I'm... my name is Karen, and I'm calling because we found a dog?"

There was an exasperated sign on the other end of the line. "Aw, Clint," the woman said.

When she showed up about an hour later, Karen realized the woman from the phone could only be about 19 or 20. She wore casual jeans, a light purple jacket over a purple shirt, and introduced herself as Kate. The dog definitely seemed excited to see her. It jumped once but obediently stood back down, circling around her and barking happily, its tail waving incessantly behind it. "How'd you get all the way out here?" Kate asked the dog as she scratched its ears.

"Where'd you come from?" Matt asked. It'd taken her longer to arrive than any of them expected.

"Brooklyn," Kate answered.

Karen raised her eyebrows. "Wow," she said, "that is a long way for a dog to go on his own. Does this happen often?"

Kate paused, and righted herself. "I... hope not," she said, and frowned at the others' looks. "Lucky's not actually my dog? Technically. He belongs to... a friend, who has a hard time taking care of him on his own. I'm the one that got Lucky's tags, and since my friend's usually hard to get in touch with, I put my number on them. It's... not as weird as it sounds."

Foggy shrugged. "Sounds pretty weird, but OK."

"He hasn't been any trouble, has he?" Kate asked.

"Apparently he attacked a mugger," Karen said, and Kate just smiled.

"Yeah, sounds like Lucky." Her smile faded. "We're... trying to get him to stop playing vigilante."

Matt chuckled at that, and added, "and I may have accidentally fed him some pizza last night."

At that, Kate burst out laughing. They didn't know what to make of that, but she quickly excused herself. "Sorry," she said, hand half covering her mouth. "It's just... Lucky has a history with pizza. I see he dragged you into it too."

Lucky just barked happily.

***

Karen didn't actually recognize the number that came up as her cell phone rang that evening. She was hesitant to answer it, what with everything that had happened to her that month, but she picked up anyways, saying "hello?"

"Hey, it's Kate," Kate said. Karen breathed a sigh of relief, and Kate seemed to pick up on it. "Are you OK?"

"What? Yes. I was... just worried you might be someone else. I'm fine. Why are you calling?"

Kate took a moment before answering. "So I know I don't know you that well," she finally said. "But I have a weird request, if that's OK."

"Oh?" They had talked for a while, at the office, but it'd only been maybe thirty minutes. "What is it?"

"I need someone to dogsit Lucky," Kate said. "Only for a day."

"Oh." Karen wasn't sure how to answer. "Why me?"

"I have some... business to take care of, and Clint - my friend, who Lucky really belongs to - is out of town this whole week. And most of the people I know are also busy this weekend. Lucky could stay at the apartment on his own but I'd kind of prefer if he stayed with someone else, now that I know how easy it is for him to get out." There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Would you be up for that?"

Karen actually had to think about it. A dog in her apartment for one day would certainly be easy enough to hide from the landlord, and the dog had certainly seemed to like her that morning. Plus, with the parade of animals Matt had been bringing in to the office, Karen was beginning to feel a lonely alone in her apartment. She didn't want to admit it, because she prided herself at being level-headed and smart, and she knew that pets were a lot of responsibility, but sometimes... sometimes they made life so much easier, too.

"OK," she finally answered. "I think I can dogsit for a day. As long as Lucky doesn't mind running a few errands with me tomorrow."

She could hear Kate's smile. "Oh he'd love that. He definitely doesn't get enough exercise with Clint. Thank you, so much. I'll buy you a drink, to make it up to you, whenever you want."

"Are you old enough to be drinking?" Karen asked, but she couldn't help smiling too.

"Yes," Kate said defensively. "Barely. By a couple months." Karen just laughed.

"I'll have to give you my address," she said. It occurred to Karen again that she had just met the girl, that she should be more careful. But she couldn't help but trust her.

"Thank you so much," Kate said again when she'd written the address down. "We're actually just at the park now, so we'll be there in a few minutes. See you then?"

"See you then," Karen agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kate turned 21 during Young Avengers vol 2, and I don't think it was officially canonized but I place the events of Fraction's Hawkeye after YA vol2, making her 21 by a couple months here. Clint is off fighting for SHIELD right now since this is nebulous MCU/616 canon.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a sort of interlude before this chapter. You can find it on my tumblr here (http://pagesofkenna.tumblr.com/post/123239134691). I'm not posting it here because I swore this fic would only have 8 chapters and I am sticking to that no matter what anyone says or does. Spoiler alert: the interlude involves ducklings.

Karen's voice sounded a bit frantic on the phone. "Foggy, I need to you pick up carrots before you come to the office."

"But I'm already halfway there," he answered back. 

"Foggy, get carrots."

He stopped mid-step, and turned to walk the other way. "OK," he said. "Fine. I'll get carrots. Why?"

Karen hesitated. "You'll see," she said, and hung up. He frowned at the phone before stuffing it in his pocket.

When Foggy got to the office, Karen took one look at the bag in his hand and said "you got baby carrots. I should have told you get normal carrots."

"That's a horse," Foggy said.

Karen took the carrots from his hand anyway and passed the bag to Matt while she hunted for scissors. "These will do," she said as she dug through her desk drawer.

"That's a horse," Foggy said again, and pointed at the mid-sized pony taking up most of their reception area, in case Karen hadn't noticed it yet. Matt stood on the other side of it, face downward, shuffling his feet a bit. 

Karen found the scissors. She cut open the carrot bag while the pony watched her closely, then held a few of them out for it to sniff at. The pony ate them out of her palm.

Foggy was speechless, but eventually he found his voice. "Why is there a horse in my office? Karen?" Karen avoided his eyes. "Matt?" Matt ducked his head lower. "I'm serious! This is a horse! In a building! You brought a - how did you even get it up here!?"

"Lot of pushing," Karen said offhandedly.

" _Why_ did you bring it here!?"

Matt finally spoke up. "If we'd left in on the street it was just going to wander off again," he said. "Or get... stolen...."

"Why is there a horse in our office!?"

It took a good thirty minutes to get Foggy to calm down, during which time Matt was left to feed the pony. At one point, Foggy almost stepped into a some of the animal's droppings and began shouting again, but Karen moved him to his inner office and promised she'd clean everything up before too long.

"The _smell_ ," Foggy said, and Karen just nodded.

"I'm going to buy air freshener, don't worry. We'll just open the windows up."

"Let me guess," Foggy said louder, for Matt to hear, "you just 'found' this one too?" He could see Matt open his mouth to answer, then close it again. "How do you just find a horse? In New York? It's not a carriage horse, it's too small for that."

"It's a pony," Matt said, and thankfully he looked a bit ashamed to be saying it. "Technically."

"Which is a type of horse," Foggy said. "Technically."

Foggy left his office to go pet it, though. It's hair was brown and coarse, with matted bits in its mane and tail. It looked like no one had been watching out for it for a while.

"So where did you find this one?" Foggy asked. "Wandering down an alleyway like the usual?"

Matt half smiled. "Something like that," he said. It was obvious he was hiding something, avoiding the question. He couldn't see his friend's eyes behind his glasses but from the way Matt was standing, almost hunched, it was obvious he was tired.

"You OK?" Foggy asked. His hand was still on the pony's neck. Matt tilted his head.

"You ever led a pony up two flights of stairs before?" Matt asked with a smile.

Foggy almost lost his breath laughing. "No," he said between breaths. "Can't say I have."

The bag of carrots was almost gone ten minutes later, Foggy and Matt having taken turns with it. Neither of them were sure how much a pony should be eating, but it seemed hungry enough for them not to worry too much. Karen sat at her desk again, making frustrated noises at the computer.

"The internet keeps cutting out," she said when Matt asked what was wrong. "And when it is up for five minutes... I can't find anything."

"For the horse?" Foggy asked. That was the question of the morning. The local wildlife rescue and humane society were OK for small animals, but... where in the city did you take a stray horse?

"The Humane Society could probably figure out who could take it," Karen said, "but we need to get this out of here... as soon as possible." It was one of the rare days where they actually _had_ work to do, and they hadn't been able to do anything all morning with the pony there to distract them. Matt kept saying he was going to get started on work but never actually left the animal's side, and Foggy had fully dedicated himself to detangling the pony's mane. Even Karen was strong enough to admit she was a bit happy her desk was out in the reception area, where the horse had been confined.

None of them were happy about the smell, though. It wasn't overpoweringly strong, but the windows weren't doing enough to dissipate it, either.

By one o'clock, Karen had the number of a place out on Long Island that looked promising. Foggy made the call, while Karen and Matt waited, trying to keep the increasingly bored and lethargic animal entertained. The room was barely big enough for it, and the floors had been deemed too uncomfortable to lie down on. It followed Matt around as best it could.

"OK," Foggy said when he walked back into the room. "On the plus side, they're gonna take it." Matt breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank god," Karen said. "I sense a 'but' coming, though."

"But... they can't come out to take it until tomorrow morning."

Karen and Matt both groaned. "What are we going to do until then?" Karen asked.

"On the other hand," Foggy interrupted before they could get too discouraged, "... my cousin owns a trailer."

***

The drive back to the office from Long Island was much quieter than the drive out to the equine rescue. They hadn't really discussed why all three of them needed to go escort the pony to its new home, but about an hour into the drive they'd realized that, once again, no work was getting done at the office. Not even Matt had thought to grab their current case folder from Foggy's desk. 

Instead they chatted, about nothing in particular. When the conversation died down, Matt fell asleep in the passenger seat, and Karen contented herself with watching the city pass by as Foggy drove. They were crossing a bridge in Queens when Foggy suddenly started chuckling quietly to himself.

"What?" Karen asked softly. Neither of them wanted to wake Matt up.

"A horse," he said. Karen laughed, and rested her head against he back window.

"Yeah," she agreed.

"I can not believe...." They were both quiet for a few minutes more, then Foggy said, "I totally won that bet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory 'I don't actually live in New York and this is all ridiculously silly' note. Maybe the Humane Society actually _would_ have taken the horse. I wasn't going to call them to find out. Where did the horse even come from??? Probably has something to do with Fisk. Who knows.
> 
> The original plan was to have Matt save a carriage horse (a couple of the carriage horse stalls are actually in Hell's Kitchen, and it wouldn't be unreasonably for Matt to hear/find them), but after researching the debate between those who want to ban the horse-drawn carriages and those who want to save them... I realized that really isn't a ring I wanted to toss my hat into without doing a heck of a lot more research. Instead of giving you a shoddy pseudo-political chapter, you get Foggy freaking out over a pony instead.
> 
> One more chapter to go!


	8. Chapter 8

For once, Matthew Murdock actually had the decency to bring the stray animal into the office in a pet carrier, not holding it in his bare hands or in a makeshift box. Karen wasn't even sure where he'd gotten the thing, unless he went out and bought it specifically for this purpose. Which seemed likely. In any case, it was an improvement.

"What is it this time?" she asked, not even bothering to get up from her desk. Matt set the carrier on the floor, and instead of leaving it be like he should have, he proceeded to unlatch the door. He didn't answer to question, but a furry face appeared from the dark inside of the carrier. "A cat," Karen answered for herself. At least it wasn't more kittens.

Foggy appeared unbidden at his office doorway. "A what? What's going on?" he asked. He looked at Karen, then Matt, then the carrier on the floor, and didn't bother masking his excitement. "It's a cat!" he said, and made his way across the room to where Matt stood. The cat ducked back into the carrier. It watched closely as Foggy knelt down a good two or three feet away, so as not to scare it. "Where did you come from, little fella? Did the scary lawyer man kidnap you off the street too?"

Matt choked a laugh. "This one found me," he said. "I swear. It ran into my apartment after a mouse."

"You have mice in your building?" Karen asked.

"Not... not usually."

"Animals just flock to Matt," Foggy said. "Haven't you noticed? The mouse probably ran to Matt to hide from the cat." Foggy had been moving his hand toward the carrier, trying to entice the curious cat to sniff his fingers. He stopped suddenly, and looked up at Matt. "You didn't save the _mouse_ , did you?"

Matt frowned instead of answering, and Foggy groaned. "I wasn't going to let it get eaten on my floor," Matt said. "...I took it out to the alleyway."

"Matt," Foggy said, his voice weary.

"Mice are pests," Karen pointed out. "It's OK to let them get eaten."

"Not _in_ my apartment," Matt protested. "I thought the cat would follow me out, but... I found it asleep on my couch when I got back inside."

"Huh," Karen said. Foggy had gone back to calling the cat from the carrier, and it was cautiously stepping out. "Friendly cat. It must be used to people already."

"Awww," Foggy was saying to the cat. "Cozying up on the lawyer man's stuff? Sounds like a cat."

The cat was beginning to creep out of the carrier again, so Foggy and Karen could get a better look at it. Its fur was long, and matted. It didn't look starving, but it obviously being well kept either.

"It doesn't have a collar," Karen said. She stood up from her desk to get a better look at the animal, but didn't move forward at all. The cat glanced at her when she moved. "You could have taken it straight to the shelter yourself.

"I could have," Matt agreed, "but then Foggy wouldn't have gotten to pet a cat this morning."

The cat had begun to sniff at Foggy's fingers, and was letting him pet its matted fur. "Matt," Foggy said, still staring at the cat, "this stray animal obsession of yours has got to stop. But Foggy getting to pet a cat in the morning is always a good excuse for anything." Matt smiled.

Karen couldn't help smiling too, and she was glad neither of them could see it. "OK," she said, "but this is just a cat. We can take it to the shelter with no problem. Before Foggy gets too attached."

Matt and Foggy both laughed at that. "Don't worry," Foggy said. He started to stand up, and the cat, now encouraged, began sniffing at everything else in the office. "I already know there's no way I can take a cat home with me. Let's just go take-"

He was cut off by a knock at their office door. Everyone stopped moving, and Matt, who was closest to the door, turned towards it. "Should I-?" he asked no one in particular.

Foggy dusted himself off, and said "yeah." Matt opened the door. Foggy's eyes went wide.

"Mr. Murdock, I presume?" the man standing there said. He held a hand out, which Matt didn't take. "I'm Ronald Smith, the-"

"-building manager," Foggy cut him off. The man's eyes slid from Matt to Foggy, standing just behind. Foggy gulped, then reached to shake his hand. "Hi. Foggy Nelson. We met once before."

"Ah yes," the building manager said. Even Karen could hear the disapproval in his tone. His expression wasn't unkind, but he looked grim. "Mr. Nelson. Well. Some of the other offices in the building have been reporting strange... animal...."

His voice trailed off as he dropped his gaze to the floor. The cat had begun to rub against Foggy's leg, obviously ready to make itself at home. Foggy tensed, and tried to ignore it.

"Yeah..." he said. "Um. This isn't our cat."

Karen jumped in quickly. "It's just a stray," she said. She stepped forward from behind her desk, to join the group by the door. "We noticed it this morning, and we were holding on to it until we had time to take it to the shelter."

"I see," the building manager said. He watched it still, as it began to sniff at his shoe. "The thing is, we have been getting complaints - strange noises, and smells, you understand, and keeping pets in the building is not allowed...."

"We're not keeping pets," Foggy said. 

"Is this the first... stray animal you've 'held on to' then?"

"No," Matt said, and Foggy sighed.

"It won't happen again," Foggy said, sounding for all the world like a kid sent to the principles office.

"I'd hope not," the building manager said. "We're already having trouble with rodents, I don't need more pests to deal with."

Foggy and Matt looked appropriately ashamed, but a light went off in Karen's head. "But," she said cautiously, "cats aren't pests."

"What?" The building manager looked up at her.

"I mean, sure, some cats can be... but we found this cat _trying_ to kill a rat." It was a lie, but only partly. Karen spoke slowly, trying to figure out what she wanted to say as she said it. "It seemed like a natural mouser to me"

The building manager raised his eyebrows at that. "Oh?" he said. It was obvious he was trying to appear disinterested, but Karen knew her plan was succeeding. 

***

Matt stumbled against the alleyway wall late one night, dressed in his black uniform. He'd barely made it the three blocks back to his office building, and he was already worn out, close to passing out. With the adrenaline wearing off, his wounded body had filled with the dull ache of pain again. Instead of walking any further, he slumped against the wall, and slid down to the floor.

The cat poked her head out from behind the dumpster. He'd heard her from a block away, but still in the building; he hadn't noticed her leaving it to meet him in the alleyway.

"Hey," he said weakly to her. She meowed back. "I don't have anything for you."

She seemed to let that go, and sat beside him. Her fur was softer under his fingers than it had been before, when she'd first chased the mouse into his apartment and he's forced her into the pet carrier he'd bought just in case. Someone had brushed it that day, and he could feel the vibrations of her purring just as easily as he could hear it.

He stayed like that a moment, then forced himself up. "Good girl," he said. "See you later today," and he started back towards home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, and we've come full circle! Thank you to everyone who's been reading along, who enjoyed it and left me nice comments. I always appreciate those so much, even if I don't always reply. I originally wrote this story for my friend Hedgi but I was so surprised to see so many other people loving it as well! I hope you liked the ending!


End file.
